"Chance?"
Vol'jin lay on a rock by the sea, watching a crab that seemed oblivious to its surroundings, brandishing its pincers and strutting about arrogantly. He shook his head and chuckled to himself.
"What chance do I, an unlucky man, an exiled prisoner, have? I can only wait here to die alone."
The strange voice let out a grating laugh, "Heh heh, Vol'jin, you're right, you're a loser, a piece of trash abandoned by your people. I'm just asking you, do you have any hatred in your heart?"
"Certainly."
Vol'jin gritted his teeth, raised his fist, and smashed the crab flat with a vicious grin.
He had not forgotten the hardships of those years. His mother died when he was very young, and he lived alone on the island, tormented by endless loneliness and solitude.
Even when they occasionally went to their tribe's settlement to exchange daily necessities, they dared not reveal their identities, for fear of being discovered.
"How much do you hate your people?" the voice continued to tempt.
Vol'jin's eyes gleamed with hatred. "I wish they were all dead."
"Very good, Vol'jin, this hatred is your greatest advantage." The voice continued to tempt, "The worst thing for a person is to become mediocre, no different from everyone else. But you are different. Ominousness has caused you to be abandoned by Destiny, but it has brought you fame. In the eyes of many Trolls, ominousness is actually a symbol of strength."
Vol'jin hesitated for a moment. He knew very well that the so-called ominous signs were the work of the mysterious deity who accompanied him, not of his own power. He shook his head and said:
"Alright, I'd like to know what tangible benefits the ominous sign can bring me besides a useless reputation?"
"Popularity, the people's allegiance—that's the benefit of being unlucky." The voice spoke with an undeniable tone, "Loneliness gives you time to think, to see the world objectively. Your intellectual level is completely different from those foolish Trolls on Echo Isles; this is a necessary condition for becoming a king."
"King?"
Vol'jin almost burst out laughing when he heard this. He was already quite old at this point, not considered young among the Trolls. At this age, those successful people he admired had already established their careers.
"Okay, will I become a great king, the king of a group of crabs? Or maybe a sea turtle too?"
Mysterious existence, the unfertilized Vol'jin:
"Don't be discouraged. A true king needs to seize opportunities. In peaceful times, you would have no hope of becoming the chieftain of the Darkspear Tribe. But now, Azeroth is in chaos. Since the Orcs invaded through the Dark Portal, the world has been in turmoil. This is the time for idealistic heroes to make their mark. All you lacked was an opportunity, and now that opportunity has arrived, fairly placed before every Darkspear Trolls. Whoever seizes it will be the hero, the chieftain of the Horde."
"The chieftain of the Darkspear Horde? Replacing that old man Sen'jin?"
Although Vol'jin lived alone on the island, he was not oblivious to the outside world. Mysterious spirits always brought him the latest news from the outside world, and his understanding of the world situation may even surpass that of Sen'jin.
Vol'jin shrugged, saying nonchalantly:
"You mean those Orcs? I don't think the Darkspear Trolls will lose. The Orcs were able to defeat humans, slaughter the High Elves of Silvermoon City, and devour the people of the Dalaran Kingdom only because humans and Elves are too stupid."
No, it's because there are too many smart people.
The mysterious voice mocked, "One clever person brings victory and hope, but when there are too many clever people, they will all become fools. After all, the nature of life is selfish. When enough clever people are concerned with their own interests, the world's resources are already insufficient, so competition will only bring death and disaster."
It must be admitted that this mysterious figure was like a wise man, a brilliant mentor, who taught Vol'jin many principles of life and conduct, and seemingly without asking for anything in return.
Vol'jin chuckled. "So, am I the fool or the wise man?"
"You must be the smartest one to reap all the benefits."
A mysterious entity meticulously assisted Vol'jin's analysis:
"The Humans will find it difficult to defeat the Darkspear Trolls, and may even suffer a crushing defeat, never to recover. If someone helps the Orcs open the door to victory and end Sen'jin's rule, that person will surely become the new chieftain."
"You're the one who made me a traitor to the Darkspear Trolls?"
Although Vol'jin harbors deep hatred for his people and has been corrupted by the mysterious being's teachings, he still possesses basic morality and conscience.
"No, no, I don't want to do that. My people will curse me for the rest of their lives. I'd rather achieve success legitimately, like using the combat skills and witchcraft I've learned to help my people defeat the Orcs, make a name for myself, and become a great hero."
The mysterious being scoffed, "And then Sen'jin, fearing your reputation and the loss of his chieftainship, slandered you as a traitor to the Darkspear Trolls, a lackey of Thrall, and chopped your corpse up to feed the Hydras in the swamp?"
"This?"
Vol'jin frowned; an analysis of the mysterious entity was entirely possible.
No, it will definitely happen.
"Vol'jin, your remaining conscience and morality are the stumbling blocks to your becoming a king. You believed the lies of history, as if traitors never have a good ending. But the truth is, almost all traitors became heroes, and those who betrayed the people became successful and high-ranking. How do you think the Sen'jin family got its chieftainship?"
Vol'jin showed interest. Although the mysterious being had been lying about Vol'jin's father, it had never deceived him about other matters.
The mysterious being chuckled coldly:
"The Darkspear Trolls moved from Stranglethorn Vale to Echo Isles, where they waged war against the local Murlocs for limited living space. Dozens of chieftains died at the hands of the Murlocs, and countless of their people perished. It was a blood feud, and the Darkspear Trolls Soul God, Bwonsamdi, swore an oath to never reconcile with the Murlocs."
Vol'jin was taken aback. He knew that the Darkspear Trolls and Murlocs had clashed, but he didn't realize the hatred was so deep. This part of history seemed to have been largely forgotten.
"And then?" Vol'jin asked.
The mysterious voice, filled with intense hatred, replied viciously:
"At that time, the Darkspear Trolls had an inconspicuous candlestick priest who was only responsible for placing candles during offerings to the gods. He secretly colluded with Tide Lord Feisila worshipped by the Murlocs. Fisla gave him a dark scroll found in ruins deep in the ocean. At a crucial moment during the offerings, the young priest tore open the dark scroll and successfully banished Bwonsamdi."
Vol'jin cried out in alarm. To assassinate the god protecting his own people was an unforgivable crime.
What happened to this priest afterward?
The mysterious being sighed:
"The young priest publicly declared that Bwonsamdi had fallen and, with the help of the Murloc, had become chieftain—the ancestor of Sen'jin. See? He betrayed his people and colluded with the Murloc, but now he's gained the people's approval. It seems that cooperating with the Murloc was the right choice, successfully whitewashing himself."
Vol'jin thought for a moment and nodded, "Although I despise the traitor's actions, I don't think there's anything wrong with the Darkspear Trolls cooperating with the Murlocs. Putting aside past hatred and seeking peace is the right choice for a chieftain."
"History has blinded you, poor Vol'jin." The mysterious figure's sarcasm deepened.